rl.thebourneultimatum-第57节

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ques　had　stationed　a　guard　there　to　prevent　entrance　into　the　demolished　chapel。　There　would　be　no　contact　here。　Then　Bourne　heard　the　words　over　the　radio…the　words　that　would　send　the　false　nurse　racing　away　from　her　false　charge。
　〃Get　away　from　me！〃　yelled　Fontaine。　〃I　don't　like　you。　Where　is　our　regular　nurse？　What　have　you　done　with　her？〃
　Up　ahead；　the　two　mandos　were　side　by　side；　crouching　below　the　wall。　They　turned　and　looked　at　Jason；　their　expressions　in　the　eerie　wash　of　colored　lights　telling　him　what　he　knew　only　too　well。　From　that　moment　on；　all　decisions　were　his；　they　had　led　him；　escorted　him；　to　his　enemy。　The　rest　was　up　to　him。
　The　unexpected　rarely　disturbed　Bourne；　it　did　now。　Had　Fontaine　made　a　mistake？　Had　the　old　man　forgotten　about　the　inn's　guard　and　erroneously　presumed　he　was　the　Jackal's　contact？　In　his　aged　eyes　had　an　understandably　surprised　reaction　on　the　guard's　part　been　misinterpreted　as　an　approach？　Anything　was　possible；　but　considering　the　Frenchman's　background…the　life　of　a　survivor…and　the　state　of　his　alert　mind；　such　a　mistake　was　not　realistic。
　Then　the　possibility　of　another　reality　came　into　focus　and　it　was　sickening。　Had　the　guard　been　killed　or　bribed；　replaced　by　another？　Carlos　was　a　master　of　the　turn…around。　It　was　said　he　had　fulfilled　a　contract　on　the　assassination　of　Anwar　Sadat　without　firing　a　weapon；　by　merely　replacing　the　Egyptian　president's　security　detail　with　inexperienced　recruits…money　dispersed　in　Cairo　returned　a　hundredfold　by　the　anti…Israel　brotherhoods　in　the　Middle　East。　If　it　were　true；　the　exercise　on　Tranquility　Isle　was　child's　play。
　Jason　rose　to　his　feet；　gripped　the　top　of　the　coastal　wall；　and　slowly；　painfully；　his　neck　causing　agony；　pulled　himself　up　over　the　ledge；　again　slowly；　inch　by　inch；　sending　one　arm　after　the　other　across　the　surface　to　grab　the　opposing　edge　for　support。　What　he　saw　stunned　him！
　Fontaine　was　immobile；　his　mouth　gaped　in　shock；　his　wide　eyes　disbelieving；　as　another　old　man　in　a　tan　gabardine　suit　approached　him　and　threw　his　arms　around　the　aged　hero　of　France。　Fontaine　pushed　the　man　away　in　panic　and　bewilderment。　The　words　erupted　out　of　the　radio　in　Bourne's　pocket。　〃Claude！　Quelle　secousse！　Vous　etes　ici！〃
　The　ancient　friend　replied　in　a　tremulous　voice；　speaking　French。　〃It　is　a　privilege　our　monseigneur　permitted　me。　To　see　for　a　final　time　my　sister；　and　to　give　fort　to　my　friend；　her　husband。　I　am　here　and　I　am　with　you！〃
　〃With　me？　He　brought　you　here？　But；　of　course；　he　did！〃
　〃I　am　to　take　you　to　him。　The　great　man　wishes　to　speak　with　you。〃
　〃Do　you　know　what　you're　doing…what　you've　done？〃
　〃I　am　with　you；　with　her。　What　else　matters？〃
　〃She's　dead！　She　took　her　own　life　last　night！　He　intended　to　kill　us　both。〃
　Shut　off　your　radio！　screamed　Bourne　in　the　silence　of　his　thoughts。　Kill　the　radio！　It　was　too　late。　The　left　door　of　the　chapel　opened　and　the　silhouetted　figure　of　a　man　walked　out　into　the　floodlit　corridor　of　colored　lights。　He　was　young；　muscular　and　blond；　with　blunt　features　and　rigid　posture。　Was　the　Jackal　training　someone　else　to　take　his　place？
　〃e　with　me；　please；〃　said　the　blond　man；　his　French　gentle　but　icily　manding。　〃You；〃　he　added；　addressing　the　old　man　in　the　tan　gabardine　suit。　〃Stay　where　you　are。　At　the　slightest　sound；　fire　your　gun。　。。。　Take　it　out。　Hold　it　in　your　hand。〃
　〃Oui；　monsieur。〃
　Jason　watched　helplessly　as　Fontaine　was　escorted　through　the　door　of　the　chapel。　From　the　pocket　of　his　jacket　there　was　an　eruption　of　static　followed　by　a　snap；　the　Frenchman's　radio　had　been　found　and　destroyed。　Yet　something　was　wrong；　off　center；　out　of　balance…or　perhaps　too　symmetrical。　It　made　no　sense　for　Carlos　to　use　the　location　of　a　failed　trap　a　second　time；　no　sense　at　all！　The　appearance　of　the　brother　of　Fontaine's　wife　was　an　exceptional　move；　worthy　of　the　Jackal；　a　truly　unexpected　move　within　the　swirling　winds　of　confusion；　but　not　this；　not　again　Tranquility　Inn's　superfluous　chapel。　It　was　too　orderly；　too　repetitive；　too　obvious。　Wrong。
　And　therefore　right？　considered　Bourne。　Was　it　the　illogical　logic　of　the　assassin　who　had　eluded　a　hundred　special　branches　of　the　international　intelligence　munity　for　nearly　thirty　years？　〃He　wouldn't　do　that…it's　crazy！〃　〃。。。　Oh；　yes；　he　might　because　he　knows　we　think　it's　crazy。〃　Was　the　Jackal　in　the　chapel　or　wasn't　he？　If　not；　where　was　he？　Where　had　he　set　his　trap？
　The　lethal　chess　game　was　not　only　supremely　intricate；　it　was　sublimely　intimate。　Others　might　die；　but　only　one　of　them　would　live。　It　was　the　only　way　it　could　end。　Death　to　the　seller　of　death　or　death　to　the　challenger；　one　seeking　the　preservation　of　a　legend；　the　other　seeking　the　preservation　of　his　family　and　himself。　Carlos　had　the　advantage；　ultimately　he　would　risk　everything；　for；　as　Fontaine　revealed；　he　was　a　dying　man　and　he　did　not　care。　Bourne　had　everything　to　live　for；　a　middle…aged　hunter　whose　life　was　indelibly　marked；　split　in　two　by　the　death　of　a　vaguely　remembered　wife　and　children　long　ago　in　far…off　Cambodia。　It　could　not；　would　not；　happen　again！
　Jason　slid　down　off　the　coastal　wall　to　the　slanting　precipice　at　its　base。　He　crawled　forward　to　the　two　former　mandos　and　whispered；　〃They've　taken　Fontaine　inside。〃
　〃Where　is　the　guard？〃　asked　the　man　nearest　Bourne；　confusion　and　anger　in　his　whisper。　〃I　myself　placed　him　here　with　specific　instructions。　No　one　was　permitted　inside。　He　was　to　be　on　the　radio　the　instant　he　saw　anyone！〃
　〃Then　I'm　afraid　he　didn't　see　him。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃A　blond　man　who　speaks　French。〃
　Both　mandos　whipped　their　heads　toward　each　other；　exchanging　glances　as　the　second　guard　instantly　looked　at　Jason　and　spoke　quietly。　〃Describe　him；　please；〃　he　said。
　〃Medium　height；　large　chest　and　shoulders…〃
　〃Enough；〃　interrupted　the　first　guard。　〃Our　man　saw　him；　sir。　He　is　third　provost　of　the　government　police；　an　officer　who　speaks　several　languages　and　is　chief　of　drug　investigations。〃
　〃But　why　is　he　here；　mon？〃　the　second　mando　asked　his　colleague。　〃Mr。　Saint　Jay　said　the　Crown　police　are　not　told　everything；　they　are　not　part　of　us。〃
　〃Sir　Henry；　mon。　He　has　Crown　boats；　six　or　seven；　running　back　and　forth　with　orders　to　stop　anyone　leaving　Tranquility。　They　are　drug　boats；　mon。　Sir　Henry　calls　it　a　patrol　exercise；　so　naturally　the　chief　of　investigations　must　be…〃　The　lilting　whisper　of　the　West　Indian　trailed　off　in　midsentence　as　he　looked　at　his　panion。　〃。。。　Then　why　isn't　he　out　on　the　water；　mon？　On　the　lead　boat；　mon？〃
　〃Do　you　like　him？〃　asked　Bourne　instinctively；　surprising　himself　by　his　own　question。　〃I　mean；　do　you　respect　him？　I　could　be　wrong　but　I　seem　to　sense　something…〃
　〃You　are　not　wrong；　sir；〃　answered　the　first　guard；　interrupting。　〃The　provost　is　a　cruel　man　and　he　doesn't　like　the　'Punjabis；'　as　he　calls　us。　He's　very　quick　to　accuse　us；　and　many　have　lost　work　because　of　his　rash　accusations。〃
　〃Why　don't　you　plain；　get　rid　of　him？　The　British　will　listen　to　you。〃
　〃The　Crown　governor　will　not；　sir；〃　explained　the　second　guard。　〃He's　very　partial　to　his　strict　chief　of　narcotics。　They　are　good　friends　and　often　go　out　after　the　big　fish　together。〃
　〃I　see。〃　Jason　did　see　and　was　suddenly　alarmed；　very　alarmed。　〃Saint　Jay　told　me　there　used　to　be　a　path　behind　the　chapel。　He　said　it　might　be　overgrown；　but　he　thought　it　was　still　there。〃
　〃It　is；〃　confirmed　the　first　mando。　〃The　help　still　use　it　to　go　down　to　the　water　on　their　off　times。〃
　〃How　long　is　it？〃
　〃Thirty…five；　forty　meters。　It　leads　to　an　incline　where　steps　have　been　cut　out　of　the　rocks　that　take　one　down　to　the　beach。〃
　〃Which　of　you　is　faster？〃　asked　Bourne；　reaching　into　his　pocket　and　taking　out　the　reel　of　fishing　line。
　〃I　am。〃
　〃I　am！〃
　〃I　choose　you；〃　said　Jason；　nodding　his　head　at　the　shorter　first　guard；　handing　him　the　reel。　〃Go　down　on　the　border　of　that　path　and　wherever　you　can；　string　this　line　across　it；　tying　it　to　limbs　or　trunks　or　the　strongest　branches　you　can　find。　You　mustn't　be　seen；　so　be　alert；　see　in　the　dark。〃
　〃Is　no　problem；　mon！〃
　〃Have　you　got　a　knife？〃
　〃Do　I　have　eyes？〃
　〃Good。　Give　me　your　Uzi。　Hurry！〃
　The　guard　scrambled　away　along　the　vine…tangled　precipice　and　disappeared　into　the　dense　foliage　beyond。　The　second　Royal　mando　spoke。　〃In　truth；　sir；　I　am　much　faster；　for　my　legs　are　much　longer。〃
　〃Which　is　why　I　chose　him　and　I　suspect　you　know　it。　Long　legs　are　no　advantage　here；　only　an　impediment；　which　I　happen　to　know。　Also；　he's　much　shorter　and　less　likely　to　be　spotted。〃
　〃The　smaller　ones　always　get　the　better　assignments。　They　parade　us　up　front　and　put　us　in　boxing　rings　with　rules　we　don't　understand；　but　the　small　soldiers　get　the　plumbies。〃
　〃　'Plumbies'？　The　better　jobs？〃
　〃Yes；　sir。〃
　〃The　most　dangerous　jobs？〃
　〃Yes；　mon！〃
　〃Live　with　it；　big　fella。〃
　〃What　do　we　do　now；　sir？〃
　Bourne　looked　above　at　the　wall　and　the　soft　wash　of　colored　lights。　〃It's　called　the　waiting　game…no　love　songs　implied；　only　the　hatred　that　es　from　wanting　to　live　when　others　want　to　kill　you。　There's　nothing　quite　like　it　because　you　can't　do　anything。　All　you　can